


Tales of Jadis 3 - A Little Yule Party

by Glenstorm63



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen, Talking Beasts, dwarfs, werwolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-06-03 10:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6607051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glenstorm63/pseuds/Glenstorm63
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Book-verse. A faun was out on a snowy night in Narnia carrying parcels for a reason.<br/>A back history on Tumnus and what was going on just before he bumped into Lucy.</p><p>There will be at least 5-6 chapters before Tumnus meets Lucy.</p><p>(Please have the courtesy to leave review comments if you read. Good, bad, indifferent, all required please)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Little Yule Party - Part 1: HOPE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narnian's take hope and prepare for a Christmas of their own.

The little red cobbled street had been shoveled and swept clean for the occasion. 

The inhabitants had dared a lot in the last few days in this year of all years. A lot more than they had ever imagined might even be possible. They knew they had approached 100 years of perpetual winter and were hoping against hope that the spell might be coming to its ending. 

Over the last few years, some people had even begun repeating the old prophecy about the four thrones of Cair Paravel and two daughters of Eve and two sons of Adam, as if it meant something. A few even thought they had seen a son of Adam or daughter of Eve about. But it was probably wishful thinking and they had just spied a dryad or two in one of their less treeish moments on one of the days when there was some warm sun sneaking a look whilst it blazed down on some happier land.

There were even one or two bright decorations coyly festooning some of the frosty windows with the curtains pulled back to give each other a little bit of Narnian courage. This was rather a risk, but somehow it seemed the right thing to do. The old Helenian calendars that a few still kept hidden away told them that it was nearly Christmas time. In some families the novel tradition had been passed down that in the absence of Father Christmas, it was a fine thing to do to exchange gifts with each other! 

The dwarf family assisted by their old friend the red satyr had even chopped down a small spruce and had brought it in from the cold, but instead of displaying it where unfriendly eyes might spy their festive mood, it was dragged down the hall and disappeared into the mysterious depths of the dwarfs' rambling warren.

That had been accomplished only one week before now, only a short while after the local police force had loped off in a hurry towards Her House, answering a mysterious summons.  
No-one was quite sure of the full truth but there had been witnesses to some steps in the events. 

The story went that Giant Rumblebuffin had finally lost his temper about his chilblains and the hopeless jumble of stone slabs he and his family had tried to call home for the last 13 years. For these 13 years, they had been turfed out of their snug old caverns up on the edge of the Northern Moors and set to carving smooth sledge paths. As the Hundred Years Winter was drawing to a close, Jadis, Queen of Narnia, Chatelaine of Cair Paravel and Empress of the Lone Islands, seemed to be feeling less secure in her tenure so she now had a network of smooth sledge highways criss-crossing Narnia so she could get anywhere within the main valley lands in the space of a day. 

People’s eyes and mouths were wide with delight at the telling that Rumblebuffin had gone right up to Her House with his club, demanding that She accommodate him and his suffering siblings in the warmth and shelter of her enormous castle, or he would knock holes in the roofs of Her towers. It would have been very funny to watch. She didn't just turn him immediately to stone, because he had already managed to clamber up onto a parapet and was looming over her throne-room and the chamber of records. The parapet was already crumbling and thirty tons of grey marble is one of the worst things to have fall onto your seat of power. 

For a while, Jadis had been reduced to running about on the ground stamping her feet whilst she called for her Chief servants to rescue the situation by negotiation. In the end she managed to coax him down herself, by making false promises and offering him and his family the huge haunches of steaming roast elephant that she had conjured by pouring a few drops of her magic liquid onto the snow. Rumblebuffin was an honest chap and understood food very well if not much else, so he came down in the hope that she would let him take the food back to his family. But she had won of course and poor Rumblebuffin had become yet another statue in her courtyard. The haunches of meat were fallen on by her own servants. They thought it a fair exchange for their efforts.

But the audacity of his act of defiance had run through Western Narnia like wildfire and given hope to the inhabitants of the cold sorry clusters of caves, warrens and cottages that were dotted here and there across the frozen woodland valleys. And time to get a Christmas Tree in and not be seen… and invite a selection of the neighbourhood to witness it getting dressed. 

It was also an opportunity to mount a comfort collection drive for the remaining Buffins, which was no mean feat, with them being giants and all and special treats being in such short supply. But the Narnians whose families had successfully survived 100 years of winter had ways and means of acquiring all manner of things, never fear. 

Some used fair means, some used foul and some were in the pay of the Queen herself, but the comforts of the wider world had ways of entering this frozen land that not even its tyrannical ruler could always detect. 

One of the intrepid witnesses of the event with the giant and now an invited guest for the evening’s anticipated festivities was just now trotting along the cobbled street towards the dwarfs' warren. He was carrying a small bundle of packages, slung over his shoulder with pieces of red bark twine and a thick red woolen scarf wrapped around his neck to protect it from the cold air. His curly black hair was gleaming and his tight little goatee jutted out jauntily from his chin with a little upward curl. He was attending a Christmas party and he was a faun. His name was Tumnus.


	2. A Little Yule Party - Part 2: ENTRAPMENT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Tumnus came to enter the pay of Jadis.

Like nearly everyone Tumnus knew, once he had grown his first hair on his chin, Tumnus had been personally interviewed by the Queen whilst flanked by Maugrim and his brothers; all in various stages of progress from wolf to man or vice versa. The experience had not been his most pleasant. For some others he knew it had been when they were still children who were learning to read and write or even barely weaned or fledged. She had... her ways... shall it be said, and it still haunted him. 

The tongues of the werwolves had stirred him repeatedly and try as he might to staunchly resist, he had cried out in both terror and pleasure, but could see in their cold eyes that if she had not restrained them, they would not have stopped and would have disemboweled him alive if they could. He knew it had happened before.

Jadis did not select everyone to be in her pay, for she knew from long experience that the native inhabitants of Narnia were a fickle lot. But in Tumnus she could see that here was a person with a bright eye and a steady hand and a truthful heart. He would have to be watched closely and what better way than to keep him coming back for more money to buy food items and the raw materials for clothing and implements?

To keep himself in her pay for the last fifteen years, Tumnus made secret reports about only fairly trivial infringements of her law and where possible only where there were also other witnesses to corroborate. He hated himself for it, but he managed to do a lot of good in a small way with the proceeds. Trivial laws that he reported being broken included four or more individuals being seen walking and talking together in public, or Talking Beasts referring to the Queen by her first name instead of Her Majesty Queen of Narnia etc.  
The problem was, so many people liked and trusted him, it was becoming harder and harder to hear about their deeper forms of treasonous behaviours without calling for them to silence and slipping away before he heard any more.

If others made reports and it was known he did not, then his game would be up. When he had been brought before the Queen five years later and inquisited the second time after some apparent misdemeanour, she had looked into his mind and seen some things he had never known about himself before. 

She saw his pride in his horns and his joy in his lithe limbs and his dainty cloven hooves, his love of dancing, his honesty and his honourable intentions to others. This was just a part of being the faun he was and he was so natural and unconscious in his character, so she showed him what she would do to him if he was not a good little spy. He saw her cut off the horns and fuse the cloven hooves of a satyr she especially disliked. She even gave the satyr the legs, the tail and the appendages of a stallion... and appetites to match... before setting her wolves on him to chase him into the woods.

Then she had smiled broadly at Tumnus and told him to learn from the lesson. Tumnus had stumbled the ten miles home alone crying bitterly and curled up for nearly two weeks and faced the wall. But the Beavers, some local holly dryads, a cousin and the neighbouring dwarves had come calling, lit his little fire, spooned warm broth into his mouth and coaxed him back to health, if not hope.

So he had gone into the pay of the Queen, trying to stay alive by acting as her spy but doing the least he could and passing on the benefits of what little he did earn to people in greater need. It was a matter of survival. Live and let live was his family's motto, but he now found he had no choice but to turn in innocent people who had only done some minor infraction because he knew that he was being spied on himself. The last ten years of his life had been a misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the slightly porno edge here. I just think when you get a scary werwolf together with a lithe faun under the watchful eye of a scary sexy lady, things start to go wrong.


	3. A Little Yule Party - Part 3: TELLING TALES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumnus gets very excited and then has a terrible shock.

Only a week ago it had been a snow shoe hare he had been speaking to who confessed a little too excitedly and loudly that only a few weeks ago, she had actually managed to cross the border into Archenland and narrowly escaped being shot by a human huntsman - a real son of Adam. With her nose all a’quiver, she chattered about how he been able to pick her out against the autumn leaves and the real green grass and shrubs that she had been gorging herself on. She said that she had only returned back to the snow to hide and to get away from the huntsman, otherwise she would have made her escape from Narnia altogether.

Tumnus had been agog, never having even seen anything but winter, as he was only 30 years old. He began to wonder whether this meant that the harsh perimeter which surrounded Narnia, keeping all its inhabitants in and all humans out, might finally be crumbling. He was just beginning to warn the hare about keeping very quiet about this possibility and was about to invite her back to talk to some others when from the larch tree above came a silky voice, heavy with innuendo. 

"How very interesting". 

Hanging upside down from his hind claws and one fore paw to the low branch of the larch tree was Šarmu the Ermine. His fine triangular white head looked quizzically at them both and his bright black eyes danced with mischief. 

"So… got into Archenland did you? Well, now, how fascinating. Hhhmmm. I’m sure She will want to hear about that morsel of intelligence. And didn't you sound interested Tumnus? Positively panting with glee and antici-p-p-pation I would have said. I'm sure the Queen will be very interested to hear about it all. Tumnus, perhaps you would be so kind as to take that hare prisoner and give me a lift to the Queen's house at the same time?"

Tumnus was consumed with horror. His eyes darted to the hare who was crouching, nose quivering, eyes huge, frozen with terror, hoping that she would gather herself to escape before he made his lunge, and execute wild zig zags across the surface of the snow before disappearing into the distance in a cloud of snow spray. He momentarily considered grabbing Šarmu and dashing his brains out on the tree, but knew that if he failed all would be lost for him and the many people he supported in secret. So he lunged at the hare and the poor thing was as good as turned to stone already. He felt his hands clutching her warm body and silky fur firmly and only then did she began to scream and kick. Still he held on, gradually trying to protect his body from her kicking scratching claws and his ears from her pitiful piercing shrieks. But it was his own survival that counted here. 

Then Tumnus felt Šarmu drop onto his shoulder and clutch his beautiful red scarf before latching his teeth onto Tumnus’ earlobe. "Well done Tumnus, I really thought we’d lost you there for a moment” the smooth voice said directly into his ear through its gritted teeth. “But you really know on which side your bread is buttered don’t you! Off to the Queen to dob in a fellow traitor! That’s the way, easy now”.  
And with that Tumnus found himself struggling across the snowy forest lands towards the Queen’s House, the poor hare cuddled firmly in his arms, both souls despairing, whilst the voice of the ermine worked a spell of compliance on them both.  
It took half the day to get to the Queen’s house and then the interview with the Queen was hardly immediate as she had other business to attend to. They could clearly see the giant on the parapet.  
But one of her favourite werwolves was in office at the time, and he ushered them in anyway and kept them waiting on a wooden seat outside her throne room, eyeing the hare and the faun with barely controlled lust, whilst they listened to the final negotiations rumbling about the castle. Tumnus was terribly hungry and thirsty.

…

They felt the flash of her wand through the stone walls more than they heard it, as she turned the poor Buffin to marble. Tumnus eyes filled with hot tears.

When She finally did arrive, Jadis strode past loftily. She was swathed from neck to toe in white furs, her long lustrous hair in a cloud of static, positively glowing from the enormous life force she had drawn from the giant. She nearly did not see Tumnus crouched on a wooden seat outside her throne room holding the poor hare, the Ermine draped around his neck. She pulled up short and stared down at them, appraising the odd trio with a distant expression. 

Then her mood and focus changed considerably. 

“So what have we here?” she crooned, pushing her hair back behind her ears and over her head as she spun on her heel in a fluid flourish. She was very beautiful. Just very white.  
At this moment, Tumnus was almost glad that Šarmu was with him and prepared to do the speaking.  
…  
Back in her throne room, she sat down lightly in her chair, her wand placed close at hand upright in its stand. The hare just quivered and did not speak, so Šarmu began the bare basics, making sure he described over-hearing a conversation between the hare and Tumnus.

“But perhaps your glorious Majesty would like to hear it from the hare’s own mouth?” queried Šarmu. Tumnus moaned inwardly with terror.

The Queen’s mouth twitched, winked a long eyelid fake-conspiratorially at Tumnus, beckoned him closer, then looked on the hare kindly and stroked its fur with a long finger in Tumnus’ arms for several minutes. 

“Don’t you want to talk to your Queen and ruler?” she asked softly. 

A complex scent wafted from her hair and breast. It reminded Tumnus of fresh wet stone after a thunder storm and of stewed apples.

The hare loosened visibly. It blinked but was still too intimidated to speak. So the Queen unstoppered a little bottle and let fall a single drop to the floor. It sizzled, the scent rising. It reminded Tumnus of buttered toast and sardines and hot tea. But what appeared was a succulent lettuce. Another drop and it was a pair of carrots. The poor hare who had scratched around in the snow and ice for most of the six years of its short life searching for roots and old grass and needly leaves was embarrassed for choice and set to gorging itself feverishly on first one, then the other and then back again of these unheard of foods. 

The Queen watched with interest until the hare’s eyes began to look dull and unfocused and then said softly commanded “Stop!” and then “Tell me everything.” She commanded gently. “Did you really manage to exit the snow border you clever creature? What did you see? What was it like? Was the herbage of Archenland as delicious as these?”. 

The poor snowshoe hare then babbled and gabbled everything out with “Oh, yes…”, “Oh no…” squealing with anxiety, belching with satisfaction, defecating with abandon, moaning with pleasure and giggling with delight in equal measure. Tumnus found it devastating to watch and listen to, but was also terrified that the hare would betray others in its spell induced psychosis.

The Queen’s green eyes shifted in turn from kind encouragement, to cruel amusement, to revulsion, to distant blankness and finally icy hardness as the hare continued. 

She snapped her fingers. The sound ricocheted under the dome of her throne room and three werwolves stalked forward from the shadows to her summons.

“You heard! Alert the rime wardens! I want a full report from all the watchers. We meet at the Stone Table at sunset, the day after tomorrow!”

Before their eyes, the wolf men shed their clothes, dropped to all fours, grew fur, snouts and wolf shapes and bounded out of the castle howling to their fellows. 

She reached down, grabbed the hare and wrenched. Its head and the dangling white spinal cord she tossed aside. The body she dropped at her feet.

“Šarmu! Your reward.” There was no hesitation. The Ermine burrowed in. Tumnus realised Šarmu had been waiting for this all along.


	4. A Little Yule Party - Part 4: CHOICES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumnus learns a fascinating piece of news from the jaws of Jadis and is faced with a tempting and terrible decision.

Jadis grasped her wand and held it to Tumnus’ chest. She was bristling.

“So faun, you fraternised with a detractor, abetted a subject who escaped our borders and returned to tell the tale. You tried to pretend to fulfil your sworn duty to us. If the Ermine had not been in earshot, what would you have done instead?”

Tumnus said nothing.

“I wonder? You only ever bring us tales of minor infractions yet we are aware of far greater crimes against us. We hear you take joy in helping your fellow subjects. How sweet. You are very well known… even loved. By many. How many?” Her voice was heavy with sour sarcasm.

“Indeed I… well… that is… I t-t-t-ry to befriend people so I c-c-c-can be a more effective as y-y-y-your agent” Tumnus stuttered. “I c-c-c-cannot help it if a few people like me a little? I think I do a very g-g-g-good job. It can be v-v-v-ery hard being one thing to everyone else and another to yourself… my Queen”

“We are sure it is VERY hard faun. But how could this be? It is not for the likes of you to receive joy and love. It is we Jadis who require the love of our loyal subjects.”

She thought for a moment and changed her tone and told him something wholly unexpected.

“Know this faun! There comes a time of reckoning. We have read the stars, smelt it in the air and felt it in the fires of the earth. Times are about to change. Yonder hare is only one among a precious few who have managed of late to loosen the bonds of this dismal frost bound valley to walk in another land. If our subjects may find a way out, so may others, your Royal Queen included who has ruled here in this icy prison for a hundred years whether we liked it or not.”

She let that morsel sink in. 

“And we would then be free to order the wider world. Narnia could be fruitful again. Wouldn’t you like that?” Jadis breathed menacingly, watching closely every anxious and excited twitch of his happy-sad face. “I thought as much”. 

“And of course, you know the prophecy. Who does not? If a son of Adam or a daughter of Eve should then find its way IN, well the evil days will be over and done. Won’t they?”  
Tumnus squirmed. Jadis eyed him chillingly.

“Mark my words faun. Your task is to keep your very eyes peeled and your ears strained for any sign, smell or rumour of a son of Adam or Daughter of Eve. Should you see one you are to overpower it and bring it to me, alive. At once!”

“For with a son or Adam or a daughter of Eve in our power in Narnia, not only will the winter pass but we shall be free to go where we will. Do you understand faun? The evil days will be over and done!”  
Tumnus nodded frantically, eyes wide. He was agog with what he had just heard. 

“And if you should fail, then mark my words. I have had eyes on you for some time. Many of the trees in the upper reaches of Lantern Waste and Beaversdam give rumour of your furtive activities. Even some of the stones bend to my will.”

“Are you ready to do my will or should I bend your form to stone ?” she demanded.

Tumnus nodded frantically, again. “Do your will y-y-y-our Majesty, your will, your Majesty” He stammered.

“Good. Here is your reward”. She tipped the bottle.

A large plate of his beloved buttered toast and sardines appeared and then a piping hot pot of tea next to it. 

A dwarf carried it out to the seat outside the door for Tumnus who was full of confused guilt, excitement, dread and sadness. He didn’t know what else to do anymore. So he ate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jadis wants out. You betcha. This is her prison planet. But it's all in the timing. She NEEDS a son of Adam or a Daughter of Eve as her passport to get out of Narnia. But if the four get in and stay alive before she can get out, the Tree of Protection will reassert itself and then her life will be an even worse misery.
> 
> The next chapter will end the sequence. Hope to post it soon.


	5. SALVATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This last sequence Tales of Jadis 3 - A Little Yule Party has been less about Jadis than about Tumnus, but I needed a segue between Jadis's story and the scene in which Lucy and Tumnus startle each other in Lantern Waste. This last chapter attempts to clinch it.

SALVATION

That had all been a week ago. The effects of the Queen’s food was still with him, disturbing his thoughts and weakening his will. He had not eaten since. 

But for now, Tumnus was attending a clandestine little Yule Party.

After nearly having turned back, he tried to lift his spirits a little as he trotted down the red cobbled street towards the dwarfs’ door, a large black umbrella hooked over one arm, his tail over the other. 

The parcels dangling from his shoulders banged into his hips. Small morsels of exotic foods mostly, which he had been able to buy using the proceeds of his payments from the White Witch, Queen Jadis.

As no-one could get into Narnia from outside, especially humans, and as a rule, no-one from Narnia could get out, it was a tricky affair to get items from the outside world at all. From the lands of summers and rich autumns… Tumnus shivered with yearning for such unattainable sensory delights. Rumour had it that there were even lands to the far south that lived in a perpetual state of heat, some dry, some wet with sun, fruit, nuts and leaves in abundance. Despite his fear and hatred of the Queen, it really would be worth his while if he managed to blunder into a daughter of Eve or a son of Adam. Narnia would have spring again!

The main source of their black market treats was their border with Archenland. Hundreds of mountainous miles of border country. There were meant to be descendants of Old Narnia living in Archenland who had set up catapults. From these they threw bundles of food and clothing and bedding over the border into Narnia in the hope that they would be picked up by people in need or who could deliver it to those who were. They had been doing it for generations once they had all realised that no living person could cross the border in either direction. 

However, the rime wardens set by the Queen spent a considerable effort in reaching the bundles first and they almost certainly distributed their findings amongst their own kindred. These included the Spectres, the Woses, the Werewolves, the Hags and the Minotaurs. But enough got through to the faithful, that at times like now, the day of the Winterfather, there were still a few treats to share with each other.

Tumnus had acquired a pot of marmalade which he intended to give to his old friends the Beavers and some flour and real butter he was giving his hosts. It was from the Queen he had acquired a large jar of sardines, but these, thank goodness, were real and not produced by wishful thinking and her dreadful potions. He had packed some carefully in a clay pot sealed with wax and wrapped it in birch bark. He was giving this to his friends, the fiery red satyr and the red foxes who shared a cave not far away from this little hamlet. There were also numerous small food items for the forest creatures he was expecting to see there.

Tumnus rapped on the door and it was opened smartly by one of the dwarf daughters, young Appledore. She smiled cheerily and invited him into a tiny front hall that was lamplit. She locked the door, winked and then ushered him down into the hill holding his hand, her lamp bobbing along lighting the way in the narrow passages.

“You’re the last one to arrive you see. We couldn’t start until you got here safe and sound of course”, she added kindly. 

She blew out the lamp and they were plunged into darkness. Tumnus gave a gasp.

“Don’t worry, this is just to keep everything secret so you can’t be questioned about the ways into the deep places of our warren” she said kindly. She then turned Tumnus around and around several times so he would lose all sense of direction.

Tumnus heard her unlock a door. They stepped through and then she locked it again. Holding his hand, Appledore guided him with sure-footedness and a steady hand along a stony uneven path, up and down many times, round corners, down some steps and once, he was sure across the edge of an echoing chasm. 

Appledore finally pulled to a stop, unlocked another door, pulled him through, locked it again and then she finally lit her lamp again. Just a few yards away was another door. Appledore scuttled up to this and rapped a complex staccato. It must have been a code. 

Open the door swung, and Tumnus found himself delightedly being pulled into a warm glowing cave festooned with holly and red cloth flags, accompanied by cheers of “good old Tumnus!”. There was a mixed company of dwarfs; a few satyrs; the red foxes and their daughters; a family of squirrels, Mr and Mrs Beaver, several robins and blue tits and a redwing. To Tumnus’ lasting delight there also rose a green spruce tree, ten feet high, set with little candles and dangling with exquisite little pieces of cut crystal, amethyst, garnet and amber, catching the light.  


It was magical, beautiful and full of friendship. Tumnus eyes filled with tears and he fell to his haunches, blinking wetly, thankful that Narnia could still be a land of such wonder and love.  


He was helped up with many hands and warm words of encouragement. 

There was a large hearth burning merrily and at a special part of the evening, onto this was placed an honest Yule Log, beautifully dried with its ends carved into the laughing face of the Winterfather.  


It was as this began to catch in the flames, that gifts were exchanged. Mrs Beaver had sewed him a purse. The Red Satyr had carved for Tumnus a beautiful forked Narnian pipe which, Tumnus immediately began to play, dancing with his friend around the spruce tree, joined by Appledore and her mother beating a complex rhythm on their tambors. And so the evening went on, full of jollity.

Everyone, especially the birds had enough to eat and a little too much to drink, certainly more than they were used to, in this land of snow. The Red Fox stood on his hind legs and holding his cup between his paws tried to make a long and dreary speech but fell over before he was finished.

For there was eggnog and even elderflower wine. From where it all came was a secret. To Tumnus it all tasted like ambrosia or the nectar of the fireflowers of the sun and he had to steady himself and drink melted snow for a little to find himself again.

It was some time after ten o’clock that some bestirred themselves to start heading home. Mr and Mrs Beaver waddled up the corridor saying they needed to get home before their dam froze over again. Most of the dwarfs were all staying where they were, or trekking back up to the main dwelling, and they begged Tumnus to stay. But he tearfully backed out of this kind and heartfelt offer. He knew that his best chance of returning home without being noticed was to do so at night.

So he and others who were leaving packed up their beautiful presents into parcels again. Tumnus strung some over his shoulders and was embarrassed to find that he had rather a stack of bulky parcels to balance. He had been the luckiest of all. 

Tumnus needed help to get them all through the dark maze of tunnels, but once he was up in the main dwelling he thought he could manage alright. It was only three miles to his little cave.  


So he wrapped his red scarf tightly about his neck and carefully draped his tail so it would not drag. Then the door was opened and out he stepped into the night with a whispered goodbye as the parcels were stacked in his arms. There was a half-moon to light his way and a little light snow was falling. 

The party had given him some much needed Narnian courage, so he decided to go by way of the glade of the lantern. It wouldn’t do to bump into anything on the way home and drop his precious parcels. He needed all the light he could get.

So it was, that about half an hour later on that snowy night, as he entered the glow of the perpetual lantern, he saw something that startled him so much that he did indeed drop all his parcels.

“Goodness gracious me!” exclaimed the faun.

FINISH

**Author's Note:**

> There is a wider world out there beyond Narnia to dominate and there is no good reason why Jadis should be stuck in Narnia unless it is her prison. So my twist on the story without changing much canon, is that the Tree of Protection trapped Jadis in Narnia at the moment she killed it. For more on this matter please read "Tales of Jadis 2 - The Day of Reckoning".


End file.
